31
ALEXA KING
-Present-
Sebastián's summer house
October 7, 2018
11:50 a.m.
THE PATH THAT LEADS to Sebastián's summer house seems longer without Melody by my side.
We would laugh whenever we came to cool off in the riverbank, our arms intertwined as we skipped along the path. The smell of sunscreen would always linger in the air, a cocoa butter scent that Melody preferred because it enhanced her femininity. Our constant chatter about anything and everything that was gossip would echo back at us, as if the woods were digesting whatever information about the town we were providing. The heat was mostly unbearable during that time -- sunrays bronzing our skin -- so we would always be eager when we heard the riverbank. It meant we were close to our destination.
Now it's just lonely. The day is gloomy, despite the beaming sun. There's no echo of our voices, no cocoa butter scent in the air. It smells like a combination of mildew and petrichor. I suddenly hear her laughter, a distant memory that's been resurfaced, and turn around. Melody is standing behind me on the night of Sebastián's bash, clutching Logan's hand as she looks nervously around the woods. Her gaze shifts to me, her eyes wide with terror. What was she trying to--
Footsteps are heard close by, a series of crunching sounds that make me think of broken leaves. My chest tightens as the beating of my heart accelerates to an abnormal pace, and a sense of dread grows in my stomach. Melody is no longer behind me, but I can feel eyes on me.
Then, I remember -- the woods are Levittown's eyes.
I pick up my pace, leaves and twigs crunching with each step I take. Suddenly, I'm beginning to agree with Mr. Ellis -- they should band access to the woods. If a mysterious guy can lurk around and listen to private conversations, then any lunatic can do the same thing. If a mysterious, older guy can seduce underage girls so close to the riverbank, then it means this place is no longer safe.
The riverbank can be heard somewhere near, the splash of water against sharp rocks. My steps slow down until I'm walking normally again. If the riverbank is near and I can hear it taking its normal course, then it means that Sebastián is within hearing shot and can come to my rescue if something happens.
There's no one here. There's no one here. There's no one here. For crying out loud, I just imagined Melody. I'm just seeing things, hearing things, feeling things. It's the medication. It has to be that.
The sun is radiating in a beautiful sea of celeste blue, some clouds floating around it. Its reflection glints on the riverbank's strange transparent water. Today, it resembles the surface of a mirror, smooth and crystalized. I tilt my head up as I walk ahead and watch as the sun follows after me, some tree branches hiding it from view sometimes.
What happens if I disappear?
Chaos and death. I'm sorry for not being a good friend to you. I'm sorry for not protecting you that night when you obviously weren't safe.
Forget about her.
Why? Why did you want me to forget? I forgot and she disappeared. It's my fault.
I can't love you!
Why can't you love me? Am I not enough? Is my love not enough? Is it because of my skin color?
Alexa, do you feel it? Your mother's insanity, coursing through your blood?
I do. It's like venom, poisoning everything that's good in me.
I'm always watching. You wouldn't want to end up like Melody, would you?
Shut up! You didn't deserve her. I hate you.
You're not alone in this, Alexa. I hope you know that.
Then why do I feel so lonely? Why do I feel so terrified all the time? I'm slipping away, and you can't do anything. You're just a witness to my demise.
They don't understand the beauty of your skin, the complexity in your curly hair, the struggle of existing.
I know, mommy. I know. Your words were incomprehensible back then, but they ring so true right now.
Mommy, why are you red?
Why are you red? Why are you red? Why are you red?
Their voices overcrowd my mind, each of them blending to one, raucous sound. I can feel a headache forming. When they're too loud, too much to bear, I begin to run without looking back. Trees and bushes stand on either side of me, but they begin to morph into a green blur the faster I run. The only sound that engulfs me is that of my shallow breaths. Blood is pumping in my ears and everything goes in slow motion despite my running.
As if on instinct, I stop in front of the curvy path and see Sebastián's summer house on its end. Now that I pick a normal pace, I can feel the sweat covering my body -- rolling down my back, glistening on my arms and legs, dripping from my temples. It's just like when we were kids racing to the riverbank with our bikes. Only this time, I'm not here to have fun with my friends. I'm here to discuss with one of them his relationship with my murdered best friend.
How strange, to walk around a place so sacred to a bunch of eleven-year-olds who live in the past. How many times did we race through this same path to the riverbank without thinking that one of us would be killed six years in the future? How many times did we laugh, cry, and talk about things that now seem silly? When did this, our safe haven, become a place of horrors?
As the frantic beating of my heart slows down and my thirst only intensifies, Sebastián's summer house comes into view. Like in a glitching film, I see parts of the house during that night -- the party blasting inside, the streams of green and purple lights, the music shaking the structure of the house, shaking the ground beneath me.
There's a grove forming a circle around Seb's summer house, leaving some space in front of it as if it's a gateway to some other dimension. Now that I see the house in daylight and surrounded by what looks to be an ominous spot, I can't help but think that we were all doomed from the start. I mean, what are the odds? It's no coincidence that we loved hanging around this strange place. It's no coincidence that it was so attractive to us, so alluring. It's no coincidence that it tempted us to do bad things. It's no coincidence that we loved every second of it.
It was like it spoke to us.
Sebastián is sitting on one of the front steps, a cigarette in between his fingers. He looks like he just rolled out of bed -- his dreadlocks are all tangled and disheveled, some prominent bags rest underneath his eyes, and his oversized shirt has creases. As I walk to him, I curse him in my mind for making me meet him here. Why not the library or his own house?
I sit next to him and catch my breath. He looks at me and tips his head as if acknowledging my presence.
"What was so urgent that it couldn't wait 'til tonight?"
"I don't know how to say this," I say, giving him a nervous sideways glance. "I don't know where to begin."
"At the beginning," he mumbles, smiling. "Nah, I'm kidding. You can trust me with whatever you're gonna say."
I nod, pressing my lips together until they resemble a thin line. Here it goes. "I know about you and Melody."
He arches an eyebrow, a reaction to my statement. His hand stops midway to his mouth, the cigarette butt growing until it turns to dust in the wind. This only lasts a few, quick seconds. He quickly takes the cigarette to his mouth, pretending that I didn't just say something so important.
"What about me and Melody?" he utters without looking at me. I can tell he's trying to sound nonchalant, but his quivering voice and trembling hand defy him.
I blow some air, still trying to catch my breath. "You know what I'm talking about." A sigh escapes my lips. "You guys were a thing."
Why is he pretending not to know what I'm talking about? I just want the truth for once, goddammit.
"Can you be a little more specific?" he says, smiling wide. Is this a joke to him? "Being a thing is too big of a guess. I dunno what we were."
I'm confused. Is he confessing that they had something going on or is he telling me the opposite? Why is he so calm about it? I expected more of a reaction, like when I went to talk to Logan.
"You're not shocked," I mumble, frowning. "Why?"
He sighs, some smoke leaving his mouth. "I thought it was obvious." He gives me a sideways glance, then returns his attention upfront. "Guess not."
"Obvious?" I say, snorting. There's an incredulous tone in my voice that might seem challenging, but it's only a way to prevent from laughing. Not a belly-aching laughter, more like a resigned one. "She kept you a secret. I didn't even know about you guys."
He's silent for a moment, his whole body resembling a statue. "How come you do now?"
Oh, I read it in a letter that Melody left behind. A letter she wrote before her murder. I can't say that to him. The possibility of even doing so doesn't cross my mind. I already told Christopher and look how that turned out. Where is he? He's been gone for days now. A sense of longing spreads throughout my body. It's this electrifying shock that awakens all of my senses to the memory of him.
"At the party you said some things... it just clicked, I guess."
He smiles, his eyes drifting to a rock that sits near his summer house. There's longing in them. It's as if he transported himself to the memory that surfaces when he looks at it. "You see that rock over there?"
I peer over his shoulder to look at the rock more closely and nod. He doesn't see me doing it, but it doesn't even matter. He just wants to be heard.
"That's where she stole a kiss from me," he whispers, touching his lips with the tips of the fingers that are holding his cigarette. "That's where I knew I loved her."
So that's the famous rock. Now that I'm here, I can picture it -- two, nervous fourteen-year-olds making their way to a quiet place, a blunt hidden inside a bra or a sock, their raging hormones speaking for them. There's innocence and laughter and tranquility, the hallmarks of the first ever pure love.
Melody and I have a rock, too. This is where she got that idea from. I bite my lower lip to prevent me from saying that I already know about it. Besides, I feel as though he doesn't want to be interrupted. It's like I'm not even here.
"It wasn't my first kiss -- none of the things we did together were a first for me -- but it felt like this mind-blowing, can't-live-without kind of kiss, y'know?" he says, a spark in his eyes. His excitement soon dwindles out, reflected on the slumping of his shoulders. "Our love was out of this world. I sound ridiculous, don't I?"
He turns to me for the first time, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with unshed tears. Christopher comes to mind and that electrifying shock pulses through my whole body, making it alive again.
"Not at all," I whisper, smiling.
He smiles, a tear sliding down his cheek. "You're in love, aren't you?"
I blush, turning my attention upfront. "I'm not here to talk about me."
Sebastián laughs. "All right. I'm just saying, if the person you love is alive and reciprocates your love, then go for it. Don't waste time," he says, rubbing his nose. "Don't do what I did. I'm such an idiot."
"What did you do?" I whisper, afraid of the answer. It can't be worse than what Logan did, can it?
He hesitates and turns visibly nervous. While he blows some smoke, he rubs his thighs with the palms of his hands. He considers my question and searches for a true enough answer. "I, um, I didn't fight enough for her."
Okay, it's part of the truth. Half a truth is better than a lie. It's evident that he doesn't want to say more about the matter. He looks embarrassed about whatever he's hiding. I can tell that it brings him pain and regret. Pushing him more on the matter will only piss him off, and I need to get as much information as possible. Whatever he's hiding can wait.
"At the party you said you two fought before her disappearance," I say, slowly. "What about?"
His body tenses. "I-I told you what about." He inhales some smoke, then blows it out. "She had marks all over her body and I got furious."
"And you know about these marks because..."
"We had sex that night, Alexa," he says, the annoyance prominent in his voice. "Did you really want me to say it?"
"That's why you were wondering if you were the father," I whisper, ignoring what he just said.
"Yeah," he mutters, giving me his back. "We didn't use a condom, so I hoped it was mine. It's stupid."
"It's not stupid," I mumble, feeling helpless and small. "It could've been yours."
"But we don't know that, do we? We never will." He throws what little is left of the cigarette to a bottom step, stumps on it, then lights another one. "I guess it's better that way, to think it could've been anyone else's. It hurts less. I'm trying really hard to grieve and move on from her. Imagine what that grief could turn into if I found out I was the father?"
I gulp, the truth resting in the tip of my tongue. "I don't know."
"It would drive me insane," he says, sniffing. "It would kill me. I wouldn't bare it."
The truth rolls back and drowns itself in my throat, heavy and explosive as it lands in my stomach. There's a feeling of relief that comes from what he just said. Yes, I still am hiding that huge secret from him, but he prefers it that way. However, there's also a warning in my head. His mental health worries me.
"So, you fought about those marks," I mumble, clearing my throat. "What did they look like?"
He relaxes and thinks for a second. "They were all different. Some were black, others purple, most of them red. They looked like hickeys, scratches and bruises."
The image of Melody hiding a hickey on her neck comes to mind. Why did I just stand there and watch her cover it? Why didn't I push her more about it? Why was I so careless with Melody's life?
"Did you notice them before or after having sex?"
He shifts on the step as if bothered by my question. "After. We had sex with the lights out."
I nod, something weighting heavy on my heart. I wait for the tears to come, but they don't. They never do. "You fought about those marks... and Logan. Do you believe he did those to her?"
He whips his head toward me and narrows his eyes. "I don't doubt it. He's an insecure piece of shit." He spats this with so much hatred. I can feel his dangerous side coming to the surface; his dark side. Logan ignites that in him. "Never understood what she saw in him, if she saw anything to begin with. But there's something in me that knows Logan didn't do all of those to her, not this time."
"Who do you think did it?"
"You know about the older guy she was seeing?" He looks at me as I nod. "She never told me who he was, but the guy was seriously fucked up."
"What do you mean?" I whisper, a lump forming in my throat.
"Exactly what I just said," he mumbles, looking around. "He was into some extreme kinky shit. It wasn't even sexy. I told her so. He made her love receiving pain."
He wasn't so boring after all.
"By any chance, did Melody ask you to do the things he did to her?" I hate to ask this question, but there's a pattern of toxic behavior here.
"Yeah. She knew I wasn't like that, but she still asked. It was like she was hooked or something," he mutters, blinking rapidly. "It broke my heart. Once again, I was never enough."
His words struck something within me. It's like I've heard this before, felt it before. Christopher comes to mind. It's always him. Melody is right -- it's hard to fall out of love with your first love. My feelings toward Christopher are now reflected through Sebastián, who still doesn't feel enough for a girl that's no longer here.
I nod, understanding something about Melody he doesn't know. "That was it? You only fought about the marks, Logan and the older guy?"
He hesitates, then grows quiet. There's that embarrassment again, tinging his cheeks a bright red and making him cringe. "Yeah. That was all."
It's the same embarrassment from before, the one that brings him pain and regret. Again, I push it to the side for the moment. There are other things to tackle first.
"Why weren't you guys together?" I say, putting my elbow on my thigh and holding my face with my hand. "From what you've told me, you were perfect for each other."
From what he has told me, but also from what I read in Melody's letter. Of course, I keep that part to myself. Sebastián blushes, the embarrassment creeping up again. This is the third time it's happened. There's something really important there and it has to do with why they couldn't be together.
"She didn't want to be with a loser like me," he mumbles, gulping what I assume is a lump in his throat. "I don't blame her. I'm not exactly easy."
From half-truths we've descended to complete lies. Why is he lying all of a sudden? What is he hiding?
"What do you mean?"
"I think she liked uncomplicated guys," he says, smoking some more. "At least, complicated guys like her. I was beyond her comfort zone."
What can be worst than a sadistic lunatic and an abusive partner? No, that isn't the correct question. What turns Melody off about a guy? What is her limit when it comes to them? Whatever the answer, that's Sebastián. She said it herself: the guys I end up loving are always so rotten inside. She clearly wasn't afraid of guys with twisted urges and dark natures. Maybe what Sebastián did wasn't horrible, but it still made her choose Logan over him. It still made her choose the older guy over him.
"If I've learned anything from Melody is that she didn't belong to anyone," Sebastián mumbles, wiping the tears off his face. "She belonged to the world."
I look around the place, at his truck parked near one of the trees, at the inside of his summer house which can be seen through the open door. The house looks lived-in.
"How are you coping with things?" I say, concentrating on his mental health. He doesn't look so good, but maybe that's how grief looks like.
"I'm not," he says, snorting and rubbing his nose. "I'm seeing your father. Didn't he tell you? I'm really trying to get better."
"He didn't."
My father doesn't exactly reveal anything about his patients. He's very strict about patient confidentiality. He only tells me if he needs to talk to a critical patient. I'm glad he's talking to my dad. Out of everyone in Levittown, my father is the most empathetic and apt. After all Sebastián has been through, he needs to let out all that rage and hate and sorrow in order to move on and live a happy life.
"That's good," I say, looking back at the house. "I'm sorry, I have to ask: why did you want to meet here?"
He laughs, but I can tell it's not humorous. "I live here now."
That's all he says. There's no intention to give an explanation as to why he's living in his parent's summer house and not his actual town house. I don't press on the matter, though. That's family business, and it seems personal more than anything else. My phone rings, startling us both. I take it out, my father's contact flashing on the screen.
"Shit," I mutter, more to myself than to Seb. "Shit. I forgot."
Sebastián gives me a sideways glance and arches an eyebrow. "About what? Aren't you gonna answer?"
"I have this stupid interrogation," I mutter, sliding the green button across the screen. "I'll be there in half an hour... Okay. Love you, too. Bye."
"First time?"
"What?"
"Is it your first interrogation?" Sebastián mumbles, eyeing me curiously.
"Unfortunately." I sigh. "They didn't question me right away because they pitied me. I wasn't supposed to see what I saw."
He nods, agreeing. "At least you received sympathy. I was questioned as soon as her death was declared a murder."
"Did you tell the police?" I say, moving closer to him. "About your relationship with Melody? About the marks you saw on her body the night of her disappearance? About the older guy?"
"What do you think?" he mumbles, some blood dripping down from one of his nostrils. He brushes it off with his thumb and acts like it didn't even happen. "I'm not telling them shit. If they questioned me just because her death was ruled a murder, imagine what theories they'll come up with if they know I was fooling around with her behind her boyfriend's back?"
I nod, feeling stupid for asking such an obvious question.
"I mean, did you tell them what you were doing that night?" It's my turn to blush now and look away. "Didn't think so. I'm not judging you at all, Alexa. All I ask is that you keep this conversation a secret. No one should now about Melody and me. Got it?"
There are so many secrets inside of me. One more can't possibly hurt. I've grown accustomed to the venom, the danger, the suffocating pain. "Sure."
"Here." He extends his arm to pass me the cigarette. "You look like you need this more than me. It doesn't alleviate my anxiety like weed does, anyways."
That's when I notice what's so different about him today -- he's completely sober. Sober Seb looks depressed and anxious. He seems slower, gloomier, out of touch with the world. I take the cigarette from his fingers and begin to smoke. There's that piney, earthy, herbal taste that Melody was talking about in her letter. This is the taste that brought her back to the moment she fell in love.
He gets on his feet. "Come on. I'll drive you to the police station."
We walk to his truck and sit in silence inside. It's not until we're on the road that he begins to speak again.
"If you knew something about what happened to Melody, you'd tell me, right?"
My mouth is dry. "Of course," I whisper, the lie satisfying him.
I know he's hiding things from me, but I can't complain. After all, I'm doing the same thing.
•Word count: 3,965•
Here's a long chapter for all you patient folks! Sorry for not posting it during the weekend like I planned to do. College is already taking its toll on me. I edited this chapter while extremely sleepy, so point out any and all errors!
We reached 3K!!!!!!!! It's already in 3.02K and I'm so freaking happy. Thank you, thank you, thank you ♡
So, apparently, a type 1 hurricane is coming to Puerto Rico tomorrow. I don't know how much damage it's going to make, but we already suffered enough with hurricane María. I hope that we don't lose electricity or water supplies. If all is well, chapter 32 is going to be posted this weekend.
Questions: did you like the chapter? Was the conversation intriguing? What were you originally expecting? Do you think Sebastián is hiding something? If so, how bad do you think it's his secret? Where is Christopher? What do you think about the older man? Melody's toxic behavior? Do you want to know more after this chapter? How close do you think we are to the end? What will happen next?
Feel free to correct any grammatical errors, but be kind about it. Tell me what you think of this chapter.
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